A Gentle Sin
by Adorelo
Summary: It's a gentle sin, the one we've committed, but a sin nonetheless. We shouldn't have crossed that proverbial line so easily.


_A/N. Thanks to Theresa for editing this for me. You're amazing. And to LeAnne for being such a wonderful inspiration and lightening my days. _

_This one's not happy; it's not happy at all._

* * *

_- A Gentle Sin -_

_- Adorelo -_

They're not even sure how they got here; don't really care, to be honest. Their hips slam against each other in a messy, rhythmless dance. There's no compassion, not from her anyway. He tries, kissing her lips softly as she attempts to bruise his. She allows it. Once. Only once before she pulls back and buries her nose in his neck, moaning slightly as his hands trail up her body. Heat.

She doesn't speak as he lifts her up, pressing her back roughly into the wall, as though hoping to evoke some sort of response. He mixes it with a soft utterance of her name, receiving nothing but a choked moan in response as he presses his erection into her pelvis. It's crazy, how the world just disappears. And when did they lose their clothes?

But when he enters her, there are no more attempts at gentleness. Their first joining is wild, their noises animalistic; feral almost. Both driving forward in a desperate journey to oblivion, back again, then a return visit with no pit stops this time. Simply passion expressed in its most physical form. Because they have to feel something. Anything. Numbness leads to self-destruction and they're falling apart as it is.

There's no reason for this. It didn't happen after Speed's death and he is still gone, dead and buried. But no, that's not the reason. Is there a reason? Neither knows, but they're masking whatever the pain is with brutal passion. Lust, erratic thrusting. Pain. Pleasure. A fatal mix. It's erotic; never-ending, hopefully.

Because when it ends, realization sets in. And thinking can be a poison, spreading though her body not his, infiltrating first her mind then, eventually, her heart. So when she comes, biting his shoulder hard, he reaches down to their joining, prolonging her climax. Prolonging the inevitable. Playing make-believe. A fantasy land.

For fantasy is better then reality. Reality hurts. Bad. He falls against her, indecipherable cries echoing in her ears as her movements finally bring him relief. He's released, fear mixed with a little pain coming out in deep rugged sobs into her hair. But she doesn't move. Seems cold almost. Won't move to comfort him because the very pain he's feeling has frozen her body.

But he notices, of course he notices and, as her eyes slip shut with exhaustion, he pulls away from her, returning his hands to her body as soon as possible. The tears in his own eyes prevent him from seeing the salt tracks on her cheeks.

* * *

My eyes flutter open softly, widening when I find half of my bed cold. I sit up, glancing around as my mind pieces together non-sequential thoughts and fragments until a full picture of the night's events is painted.

Noises from the hall capture my attention and, after quickly pulling on my boxers, I go to investigate. The light smell of her perfume cements the images in my mind. I'd made love to her last night. No, that was wrong; we'd fucked. She said that, said 'fuck me' when I'd asked what she wanted from me. I can't explain her mood last night; she was acting strange. I'd never seen her like that before. She scared me. I'm used to not being able to read Calleigh, but last night, I could feel her every emotion beating through my heart. Anger. Pain. Passion.

"Calleigh?" I call as I see her walking towards my door. She pauses, and I see her sigh before turning around, shoulders raising a little. Her eyes won't meet mine. "You're leaving?" I say it as a question, but she doesn't respond. I repeat her name, softer this time and she complies with my unspoken plea, walking gracefully back down my hall.

"I need to go," she mutters, eyes still cast down. I let my fingers find her chin, forcing it upwards so her eyes have to meet mine. She jerks away. "Let me go," she demands, and I know she's not talking about her chin. I shake my head, indicting I don't want her to go and she sighs, bringing a hand up to rub her forehead. "This was a mistake."

A mistake? God, I'm such an idiot! Why did I get pulled into it? Why didn't I tell her no? Maybe because I'm wrapped round her little finger. She doesn't know it, of course, but anything she wants I'm powerless to refuse her. Her voice had been demanding, a touch of desperation coloring her accent. "You weren't saying that last night," I say, bitterness coming through with my anger.

"Last night was…" She turns a little, eyes squeezing shut as she stops her forming tears from spilling. "It shouldn't have happened. We shouldn't have…"

"Like hell, Calleigh. You came to me." I have to point that out to her. I don't know why she came to me late last night, knocking until I answered, but she did. "Why?" I don't specify, letting her take that question as she wishes.

"Jake. He was… We're not…" Her sentences are fragmented, I can sense her nervousness.

"So, what? You and him aren't together anymore so you thought you'd just come here and - "

"I needed to feel safe, Eric," she cuts me off, her nervousness turning to pain. "I didn't come intending to… Intending for this to happen." She gestures between us. "I just needed to be near you."

I'm instantly contrite. It's rare that Calleigh admits to needing anyone, and the fact that her vulnerability was exposed to me makes me regret my anger. "So why walk away now?" I ask, softer this time.

Her posture changes immediately, hands crossing over her chest. I watch as a mask, her façade, sweeps down to cover the emotion that was prevalent in her eyes. She's pulling away. "Because, Eric, it won't work." She speaks with a certain air of finality. It almost makes me laugh, would have if my heart wasn't in pieces.

"Why? Just tell me why." My voice rises with desperation. I can't lose her.

"Because… because I can't…"

"What?"

"I can't let myself fall in love with you," she blurts, and a resonant silence encases the room. My mind's frozen; body tense; emotions in overdrive as I process her words. Love?

"I'm not asking for love, Cal." Not yet.

She shakes her head, eyes closing again but this time a tear escapes, trailing quickly down her face and off her jaw as though it knows she'll hate it being there. "I know what you'll want, how you work." I raise an eyebrow, though she can't see me. She continues as though she has. "You're too passionate. And I'm … I'm just gonna end up…"

"I'd never hurt you Cal." Her eyes snap open as I run a soft finger over them. She steps back, reaching for her bag. My hand darts out to stop her. "Don't leave me, Calleigh. Not like this." She frowns, mouth forming silent words as she pushes my hand away. I ignore her, letting my hands trail down her body as I slip to my knees, pulling her closer to me by her hips. As my head rests on her stomach, I can sense the delicate but heady scent of our sex. It's a gentle sin, the one we've committed, but it's a sin nonetheless. We were friends. We shouldn't have crossed that proverbial line so easily. We shouldn't have blackened our respect and trust for each other in our lust. But we did. And we have to handle the consequences.

"Eric, let me go," she pleads, hands coming to my shoulders. Her voice is shaky, breathing erratic. I pull her impossible closer, my hands slipping under the back of her shirt, scratching on her back. I feel the shiver and her muscles tense as though trying to ward it off. I can recall the Goosebumps on her skin as I drove into her, her cries as I sucked on her pulse. I need to taste her again. She's more addictive than any drug.

"I can't," I admit, the honestly in my voice surprising even myself, though I'd known it for years. Seeing her with Jake had hurt me more then I admitted, but I knew I could never 'move on' and let it go. She means too much to me. I wonder what Jake did. Whatever it is, she's pissed.

"We have to, Eric," she tells me, a little sigh accompanying her. "It's for the best."

She takes a step away from me, and suddenly, I'm overcome with a need to tell her things. Before it's too late. Before she leaves. I have to have one more try, one final go at convincing her the world won't fall down around her if she lets herself feel. But then, I'm talking about love with a woman who'd never heard it as a child, never understood it. I know Hagen said it to her, she'd told me, and look where that got her. No, to Calleigh Duquesne, love was not a good word. But I need to prove to her it can be good. That when she finally lets herself trust someone enough, she can experience things she's never felt before. "I love you, Calleigh," I say, my head pulling back so my eyes can meet hers. "I always will. Even the part of you that can't love me back."

She's quiet for a moment, eyes studying the floor, the walls, anywhere but my eyes. Then, so quietly I'm not sure I've heard her correctly, she whispers three words that stop my heart. "But I do."

"I know," I say, and I'm amazed at how easily that slipped from my mouth. My throat's dry, but I refuse to move. I blink a few times as moisture surfaces in my eyes. I'm waiting for something, anything that will give me an indication of her next move. But, of course, Calleigh's not as simple as that. She'll keep her cards close to her chest and leave me in the dark. It's how she works. I know that. I know her.

She says nothing more, simply squeezes my shoulder softly, a hint of longing reflected in her eyes. My walls fall now as I realize her intentions. She's saying goodbye. Detaching herself from my tight grasp, she walks away, letting the door of my apartment click shut quietly behind her.

_- Fin -_

_- March 10__th__ 2008 -_


End file.
